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once i was stranded in my pride, my vision blind by the scope of all things prescribed. then by the words of a contemplative mind, my dreams took flight and the sage within me thrived.

what once with certainty i had considered myth, fiction gone amiss, the stuff of the abyss. i see as more than tales men whisper in the night, the truth will come to flight and proof will come with sight.

to the ends of the earth, to a place where dreams make berth.

i feel the blood of ancients swimming through my veins, a call to see what they have seen. a faith in dreams and visions in my soul ingrained; could i believe what they believed?

once the envy of my peers, my new conviction have resigned me to their jeers. i must stand up to my fears, lest i be consumed for years, the path to me is clear.

by providence alone ride to the marches and beyond, where few have gone i’ll travel on. until i find the legends that men have lost, consigned to memory, cast aside as zeus or thoth.

onward i ride to the west and to the east, to seek the proof i need and my torment’s surcease. verities confound me as a stag eludes a hound, but i’ll have my vindication and tell of what i’ve found.